Chapter 527 Investigation of Wanda
By the time Emma burst out of the hospital, the sky was pitch black. She stood on the steps, the night wind whipping through her hair. She pulled out her phone and dialed Michael's number.
"Michael, I need your help," she said bluntly. "Look into Wanda's background, especially her relationship with George."
There was a brief silence on the other end. "Emma, you shouldn't see George anymore."
Emma's voice was firm, "You don't get to make that decision for me. I just need to know the truth."
Michael sighed, "Sometimes, the less you know, the better."
"Cut the crap!" Emma rarely got angry. "I'm not your pawn!" She hung up and flagged down a taxi.
"Take me to Bluewater Bay," she told the driver. She was determined to find George, no matter what it took.
The hospital wasn't far from George's mansion. Emma quickly contacted a private investigator, urging them to dig up information on Wanda as soon as possible.
If Michael wouldn't help, she'd do it herself.
The gates of the Russell Villa were closed. The security guard looked troubled when he saw her. "Ms. Stuart, Mrs. Russell instructed that..."
"Move," Emma's eyes were fierce. "Or I'll call the police and report that you're illegally detaining George."
The guard, intimidated by her presence, hesitated before opening the small gate. Emma headed straight for the main house but ran into Scarlett in the garden.
"What are you doing here again?" Scarlett screeched. "George isn't here!"
Emma sneered. "Really? Then I'll just check his room." She brushed past Scarlett and rushed upstairs.
"Stop her!" Scarlett shouted. Two maids rushed forward, but Emma deftly dodged them.
At the end of the second-floor hallway, George's door was slightly ajar. Emma's heart raced as she pushed it open.
The room was empty, the bed neatly made, clearly unused. Her eyes fell on a picture frame on the nightstand, their wedding photo, now facedown.
"Where is he?" Emma demanded, turning to Scarlett, who had followed her.
Scarlett smirked. "Why should I tell you?"
"Do you think I won't find him if you don't tell me?"
Emma stood in the hallway, her fingers quickly swiping across her phone screen. She opened the tracking app installed on George's phone, only to see the message "Target not found."
"How is this possible..." she muttered, refreshing the app several times, but the result was the same.
Just then, footsteps echoed down the hallway. Joshua, carrying a stack of files, looked surprised to see her.
"Ms. Stuart?" Joshua adjusted his glasses. "What are you doing here?"
"Joshua," Emma hurried over. "Where's George?"
Joshua looked uncomfortable. "Well..." He hesitated before finally admitting, "Mr. Russell said he doesn't want to be found by anyone."
The words felt like a knife to Emma's heart. She fought back tears and asked, "Even me?"
Joshua avoided her gaze and nodded slightly.
Leaving the Russell Villa, Emma drove straight to Mia's house. As soon as she walked in, she collapsed on the couch, spilling everything she had discovered.
"So you're saying," Mia's eyes widened, "George is pretending to be heartless to protect you? He loves you deeply, and Michael has been lying to you?"
Emma nodded, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her shirt. "And Wanda is definitely not just an ordinary psychologist. She must have an agenda with George."
Mia gasped, handing Emma a cup of hot tea. "This is so complicated. But Emma, have you considered that this might be another one of George's schemes?"
"What do you mean?" Emma frowned.
"I mean," Mia sat beside her, her tone serious, "what if he's playing on your sympathy? He was ruthless three years ago, why not now?"
Emma gripped the teacup, the hot tea burning her fingers, but she didn't notice. "No, I know him."
"If you knew him, you wouldn't have almost died," Mia interrupted. "Emma, I don't want to see you get hurt again."
Mia's words were like a bucket of cold water. Emma remembered George's cold expression at the hospital, how he let Wanda cling to his arm, and the things she had read about their past online.
"Maybe you're right," Emma's voice trembled. "But I need to hear it from him."
Mia sighed. "You're so stubborn." She glanced at the time. "Alright, I'll wait with you. But promise me, if he doesn't show, you'll let go, okay?"
Emma was silent for a moment before nodding slightly.
Night fell, and the city lights flickered. Emma and Mia sat in a corner of the Midnight Bar.
"I've sent him dozens of messages," Emma stared at her phone, all marked as read but unanswered. "He clearly saw them."
Mia sipped her cocktail. "If a man wants to hide, you won't find him even if you dig up the earth."
Time ticked by, the bar filled with people, and the music grew louder. Mia, slightly tipsy, leaned on Emma's shoulder. "Emma, give it up. I'll have my husband pick us up."
"You go ahead," Emma stubbornly watched the entrance. "I'll wait a bit longer."
At 1 a.m., Mia's husband arrived, helping the drunken Mia up.
"Come with us," he said, looking at Emma with concern. "It's not safe this late."
Emma shook her head, forcing a smile. "You go ahead. I called for a driver."
After seeing Mia and her husband off, the bar gradually emptied. The staff began cleaning up, and the music volume lowered.
"Miss, we're closing," the bartender reminded her.
Emma glanced at her phone. George still hadn't replied. She pulled out some cash and placed it on the table. "Can you give me ten more minutes?"
The bartender hesitated before nodding and walking away.
In the empty bar, Emma sat alone on a high stool. She dialed George's number again, only to hear the cold automated message.
"George," she whispered, "are you really this heartless?"
Just as she was about to give up, the bar door suddenly opened. Emma looked up, only to see a stranger stumbling in.
Hope shattered once more, and tears finally spilled from her eyes. Emma grabbed her bag, ready to leave, but as she turned, she saw a familiar black car parked across the street through the window.
It was George's car.
Emma dashed out of the bar, running towards the car. But as she approached, the car suddenly started and sped away.
"George!" She chased after it, but her high heel twisted, and she fell to the ground. Her knee was scraped, but it was nothing compared to the pain in her heart.
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